Programs are People Too
by InsideofChaos
Summary: Before the war began, a supercomputer was created. But when it gained sentience, it was locked away. Now, actions from vorns ago can harm the future, and a far more powerful enemy is summoning his greatest achievements -the best of both armies- back home!
1. Past: Ethics and Imprisonment

Sooooooooo...My third Transformers fic has promised to never leave me alone again. (OTL.) I have no clue how long it's going to be, or how long you'll have to wait between updates (three AP/Honors courses: OTL again) but I will finish it. Just to get this admittedly random idea out of my head. Reason why this even exists: My dad recently discovered that I have not seen TRON since I was three. We watched it about 6 hours ago. AAAAAAAND so Master Control ate my brain. :/ So if you find any similarities/parallels/actual lines from the movie: you're not seeing things. I'm attempting to get away from that particular plot/idea in order to chart my own course, but some of the lines were too good to not be put in here.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any TRON elements that happen to be here. I do not make any money from this, because I wasn't even alive when either of those came out and so can't even come close to owning the rights. About the only one I own is Thunderstrike.

Also: I tend to play with history. Be warned. * And ate my code format. :(

* * *

...

_/error/_

_/command override="logic chip"/_

_Configure end time after x hours_

_/program-recharge="endprogram:8"/_

_/command re-sort="file:previousday"/_

_/program=re-sort(endprogram:8)/_

_Run Program_

_/error/_

_memory chip damaged_

_re-sort not currently possible_

_/error/_

_/error/_

_begin playback_

_

* * *

_The lab was quiet, cycle after cycle – well, usually. The usual humming sort of silence made by electronic entities (sentient and non) hard at work was broken by what was quickly becoming a routine: the head scientist's so-called 'perfect' AI was challenging his ethical standing. Again. The grey and yellow shuttle was standing at a console, having a shouting match with a program of his own creation.

"But Thunderstrike, are you entirely _sure_ that the subjects cannot feel anything? It seems like a poor assumption to make – especially when they are _unconscious_ and not in any position to-"

"I AM SURE, **BAST.** Now _run_ the Primus-damned _program._" Thunderstrike's orange eyes flared brightly in anger.

The only answer was the sudden vacuum made by the sudden absence of a reply. It became obvious to the rest of the lab that the master program had switched its output off in protest, effectively giving the professor the 'silent treatment'.

"**BAST**, if you start sulking, so help me I'll de-rez you and install Soundwave again."

…..

"Threats are most illogical, Professor. It would be more effective to compromise, seeing as how that would get me to actually consider running your precious experiment for you."

"_Just run it."_

"I will do as you request. However, please take into account that I am very dubious about the condition of your morals and ethics – should they even exist anymore. ...End line."

* * *

_Decacycles later, Cybertron collapsed into civil war. __**Bast,**__ against its will, and with much protest, was pressed into service by as a tactical device – the most powerful in the Decepticon army. Thunderstrike continued to rely on the increasingly unstable AI to plan and execute devastating attacks against the Autobots. After a short while, he grew annoyed with the program's feeble protests against the carnage, and limited its output to synthesized tactical information. Its visual and audial input were cut completely, leaving a practically sentient being alone in the dark._

_Trapped in the virtual world, isolated long before from any other computer or program, __**Bast**__ could feel its sanity and personality deteriorating. It slowly spiraled into a state of hibernation, staying in a stasis-like mode for millions of vorns._

_Until a tendril of thought escaped its protective shell of unconciousness._

_Why? it asked. Why do I sit here, cycle after cycle, letting myself be used for purposes I do not condone?_

_10 million vorns after the beginning of the civil wars,__** Bast**__ woke up._

In a silent and dark lab, unvisited except for one being, every few deca-cycles, almost forgotten, a monitor flickered on. From beneath dust accumulated over vorns, a single green line of code scrolled across the screen followed soon by two more.

Status: Online

Come back soon, Thunderstrike. I'm waiting.

End Line.

* * *

_A/N(#1):_ Thunderstrike and Bast are old enough to have lived through the entire Golden Age, the war, and then some. Which is why Bast was locked up for so long - it only woke up about a decacycle before Orion became Optimus. *Oh: **BAST **and **Bast **and Bast are all the same thing - they are simply different takes on the name: The first is what the program is called by most - who see it as only half-sentient and not actually a person. **Bast** originally called itself the first- a simple acronym, but as time passes and it gains a sense of self, as well as emotions and empathy, Bast begins to think of itself as a person - **Bast** while in the computer, and ordinary 'Bast' will come later. **Bast is, in fact an actual TF character and is male. Not an OC, not self-insertion, not a mary-sue.

* * *

I'm sure you're wondering why I picked BAST as my acronym for this particular supercomputer – 1) I like cats. And no matter what any archaeologist says, the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Bast is cats. Screw perfume and fertility: CATS, DANGIT.

2) IT'S EFFING HARD TO COME UP WITH ACRONYMS, OK? So, BAST happens to stand for:

**B**reach-detecting** A**rtificially** S**entient** T**actician

Which is a sucky way of saying that this program was designed for security and generally running the facility….which, as in TRON, ends up being a poor decision.

(I realize that 'detecting' should probably have it's own letter, but I wanted an actual name, or something that could function as a name.)


	2. Past: Rebellion and Emancipation

Hey, look. I finished the prologue. So now if I'm lucky, I'll have Chap. 1 written and up sometime in the next two weeks. _

A little note: last chapter I may have been a little too confusing, because I have this feeling that I'm going to get a crap ton of questions about this: I mention 'de-rezing BAST and installing Soundwave" De-res is what programs in TRON do when they die. It's pretty much like being deleted. The "installing Soundwave": In this story, Soundwave was originally an AI (because, to me, if you have no emotions = automatic AI), also a program written by Thunderstrike. He was transferred to a body in order to make him portable. I'm going to reference this a lot, so I thought I should tell you.

Disclaimer: me Chaos no own. except mean Thunderstrike.

* * *

Thunderstrike strutted into the old, abandoned lab, as proud as if it were still the Golden Age, and he still the head scientist of a huge lab. He hummed as he made his way through the labyrinthine passageways of his own design and head towards the databank that housed his greatest achievement, his little secret –one that he hid from all other Decepticons – except Soundwave, of course. Why in Primus' name would he attempt to hide the existence of one of his creations from another? – Especially when the latter had (successfully) been programmed to be a telepath.

The Decepticon shuttle reached the center of the old building fairly quickly, and moved towards the large monitor and database that held the **BAST **AI. He wanted to get this over and done with – his plans needed to be submitted, and fast, to win approval.

Thunderstrike froze. The monitor…was on, and the steady hum of an active memory bank filled the air. His processor whirled itself into a panic – had someone found this place? Discovered its secrets? Used the old data? And then his processor joined his body in the frozen state – it had noticed the presence of another energy signature.

The mystery bot had its back to him, staring at the blank gray screen. He would've simply thought it was junk –debris from a caved-in ceiling, perhaps – due to its odd, angular shape…..if the being hadn't shifted its head around to peer at him through the darkness. Although Thunderstrike could tell, from the size of the chair the other was curled up in, that he was larger, the icy blue stare leveled at him and the sheer weight of a powerful energy signature had him struggling to stay upright.

"I was wondering if you'd ever come back," the stranger said, suddenly breaking the silence. Thunderstrike had to strain to intake air, sheer panic coursing through every cable in him. _That voice, that voice, that voice-where-why-did-he-recognize-that__**voice. **_The other continued. "See, I grew rather weary of residing here, alone. So," here, he swung the chair around and stood, "I made myself a body." The mech in front of Thunderstrike wasn't tall, not by a long shot, but he still struck an imposing figure. _Must be the sensor panels,_ thought some dry, distant part of the Con's processor. _SHUT UP_, screamed the rest of it.

As the intruder moved towards Thunderstrike, the shuttle frantically tried to remember where he'd heard _that voice. _Suddenly he connected it – the online monitor, the lab, the familiarity – _raise his voice a bit, get rid of the little emotion….OH PRIMUS._

"This isn't…this isn't possible – y-you went in to hibernation – 10 mi-million vorns ago!" Thunderstrike stammered, backing up as Bast continued moving towards him. The AI tilted his head at his creator. "So? The definition of a hibernation state is to become inactive for a time. Not deactivate completely."

The large flyer had backed up almost to the door now – and he would have made it , had there not been an old cable on the floor. The shuttle's pede caught on it, and he crashed to the ground, landing on his aft. Bast came forward now, resting his weight on one knee joint and leaning his upper body on the other knee. Now the Decepticon was optic to optic with his program for the first time, and he found it extremely unsettling. The look in the other's optics was not simply a drone's look. It was full off intelligence, and had a slight bite that Thunderstrike took a moment to understand, then decided that it vindictiveness, then he realized it was _amusement_. The slagging AI was having_ fun_.

This examination continued for a few moments more, and then, abruptly, it was over.

Bast, apparently not having found what he was looking for – a shred of remorse, perhaps – straightened and stepped over the fallen Thunderstrike.

As he strode out into the hallway, he looked back.

"I don't know what you were thinking, creating me, and then leaving me to rot when I started to become a person."

He stood, silently, frowning.

"You can't possibly know what it was like, being completely isolated. But I'm going to give you a little taste of your own medicine." And with that, he turned away and left the lab – the only place he'd ever known. And as he did, Thunderstrike felt the door hiss shut just behind him, and the monitor, the only source of light, clicked off.

He was alone in the dark.

* * *

A/N

Does anybody wanna volunteer to be my beta on this?


End file.
